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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25540708">in moderation.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction'>fated_addiction</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>let's talk about the weather [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>K-pop, Real Person Fiction, Red Velvet (K-pop Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/F, Romance, Slow Build</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:40:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,712</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25540708</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Weeks after, she finally hits a breaking point.</i>
</p>
<p>Irene, Wendy, and the business of moving forward.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bae Joohyun | Irene/Son Seungwan | Wendy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>let's talk about the weather [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843702</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>145</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>in moderation.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is the final part in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843702">let's talk about the weather</a> series. All previous parts must be read before.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>everything just <i>stops</i>.</p>
<p>well, when irene explains it: after weeks on weeks of dual promotions, reassurances that they, their group, are not filler space and the years of work, of competition and of angry and anxiety are worth it, filled with noises and cheers and <i>best unit of the year!</i> while fighting through nights of no sleep and panic and real issues seeping through still – it all just stops. and what do you do then?</p>
<p>irene hates this part. it's about ambiguity not problem solving. the obvious, no matter how hard she clings to it, is just not that cut and dry.</p>
<p>here’s the truth.</p>
<p>weeks after, she finally hits a breaking point.</p>
<p>
  <i>“i like you and i think i need to be okay with you not liking me.”</i>
</p>
<p>she can’t tell how she feels.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>yeri says to her, “i'm going home for the weekend!” but also says, “well, you’ve – as the kids say these days – seriously fucked this up!” and means that too; it’s only slightly unnerving because she’s no longer twelve and is now hanging out with taeyeon as if that explains the aging process too.</p>
<p>but irene lets her go, lets seulgi go to sunmi for their first weekend off in what seems like forever, again, and lets joy go because joy is <i>going</i> to go and she’s the busiest out of all of them these days. she’s not going to lie either. it all feels like it’s been planned because at home, it’s just wendy and her and her and wendy and there’s absolutely nothing she can do about it.</p>
<p>it’s late afternoon when she finally goes to find wendy too.</p>
<p>the best part about wendy’s room is how open it is, the wide windows that spill into the open city. at night, it even reflects like one of those glossy airport postcards, the ones that either old people collect or no one buys and they sit there, gathering dust. and how she finds her, that’s not important either: it’s just wendy, sitting on her bed, under a mess of blankets with her earphones on and her eyes squeezed closed. irene can’t tell if she’s humming or not, but what she can is pick out the song, a demo that never really made one of their albums. she just can’t remember which one.</p>
<p>“are you going to come in?”</p>
<p>irene blinks. bites the inside of her mouth. she realizes that she’s been standing in the frame of the door for a minute too long.</p>
<p>wendy’s eyes open and her head turns towards her. “i don’t bite,” she says too and there’s way too much implied. she pats the bed. “want to sit?”</p>
<p>“want to go somewhere?” irene asks, ignoring the offer.</p>
<p>it stilts the moment. feels a little sharp. wendy tilts her head to the side, studying her curiously. </p>
<p>“we need groceries,” irene continues. “since it’s just you and me this weekend. and i really just want to stay around here.”</p>
<p>she's trying, she desperately wants to say. but she doesn’t want to fight. the line has been drawn and she can’t see it. it makes her sad. she just doesn’t know why; it’s hard to know where wendy stands and then where she thinks she stands, even though irene also knows herself well enough to keep moving on.</p>
<p>she wants to ask too many things. like how did you know. or more importantly, why me. what did i do. because wendy is stubborn and all hard lines. whatever she sees in irene is incredibly intimidating and intelligent and irene wants to desperately understand. or hate her for it. because the reality isn’t as simple; it’s just changed everything.</p>
<p>finally though, wendy answers.</p>
<p>“i can go with you,” she says.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>the supermarket is nearly empty.</p>
<p>it's too close to closing. they're out of place, for sure. light years away from doctors in scrubs or the mess of university students clustering around seasoning on sale because it’s the first time they’ve made pasta or something. irene gets so distracted by the people watching that wendy has to drag her to a cart, shoving her into steering because clearly her energy and good intentions are still dancing on a music bank stage.</p>
<p>“i'm here,” she says, “i swear.”</p>
<p>wendy snorts. “we could have had takeout?”</p>
<p>“but we really need food. and we can’t always have takeout. <i>and</i> this is really nice, the two of us out here.”</p>
<p>wendy shakes her head and grabs a box of cereal. it becomes the only thing in the cart. usually irene is the one with the plan. but she’s tired and didn’t think this through, her nerves completely on edge. it becomes apparent to herself too: she keeps sneaking glances at wendy, watching her thumb through things that she can’t remember if they have at home or not. if this were normal, she’d be asking things like “do we need fruit?” or “hey, you really didn’t like that coffee –” but she isn’t, busy with just watching wendy up close.</p>
<p>there’s something different and she doesn’t know what it is.</p>
<p>“i feel — i feel like i should <i>apologize</i>,” irene blurts.</p>
<p>they both stop in the next aisle. it's completely empty, save for a sea of sweets and crackers. wendy looks up, leaning against the cart. she adjust the baseball cap that she is wearing.</p>
<p>“here?”</p>
<p>irene bites her lip. “well, no,” she says. she can hear her heart pounding in her ears. “it’s not like i want to say <i>any</i> of this in the middle of a supermarket but maybe this is the place. i don’t know what to say anymore and it’s driving me insane.” she waves a hand between the two of them. “i feel like we should be able to move forward together in whatever capacity. i just… i'm not trying to be a jerk and i feel like i am and it makes me really sad that i've –”</p>
<p>“i'm okay.”</p>
<p>the expression on wendy’s face is something that irene’s never seen before. like she understands. like she’s been here too; the guilt feels a little heavy in irene’s head. it doesn’t matter though because she freezes and wendy’s hand is suddenly in hers, her fingers pulling it back to the shopping chart. it's all weirdly domestic.</p>
<p>but it just highlights all irene’s insecurities too. the struggle that she has to maintain that sensibility of whatever people see in her when ultimately she’s totally and completely imperfect, reminds herself that she is imperfect, and falls apart the moment someone offers her something completely human. and just lets her be joohyun.</p>
<p>“i'm okay,” wendy repeats, and irene feels her face start to crumple. she forces herself to look up at the ceiling lights, the tears starting to gather in her throat. wendy’s free hand finds her face, gently touching her cheek and her jaw. “you’re not okay though,” she says quietly. “and we really didn’t need food, did we?”</p>
<p>“i'm tired of eating out.” irene sniffs. laughs a little too. she feels kind of crazy. “you can’t control the salt content.”</p>
<p>wendy rolls her eyes. “you sound like a grandma.”</p>
<p>her thumb catches on the bridge of irene’s nose and irene can’t bring herself to move. she watches wendy though and her nerves start to fall, easy into a sort of manic calmness. it's all temporary, she tells herself. and then reaches up to grab wendy’s hand, lacing their fingers together and pulling her hand down to rest on the cart. she breathes. then she breathes again.</p>
<p>“let’s finish,” irene says.</p>
<p>wendy’s hand stays in hers. she doesn’t let it go.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>the apartment is dark when they return home.</p>
<p>irene drags the bags inside. wendy flutters around the rooms, turning the low lights on so that they can start putting things away. for once, she is grateful that it’s just the two of them and that there are no side comments about how domestic they suddenly are. or about the cereal that they were supposed to get. she also feels a little better about the glances she keeps steal at wendy, knowing that wendy knows that she’s watching her and just letting her. knowing that it kind of feels like the first step forward instead of backwards.</p>
<p>“sorry about the other day,” she finds herself saying.</p>
<p>wendy pauses, hand still shoved in a bag. </p>
<p>“yeri had told me you were going dancing.” irene bites her lip. “i didn’t want to crash the whole thing. just wanted to be supportive.”</p>
<p>there, she thinks. that was an apologetic mess. you should have told her you were coming, seulgi had told her after. it’s not even that the day was particularly memorable: she had shown up to the studio, thanks to yeri, managed to survive joy’s glares, and watched, proudly, as wendy walked herself through some light choreography with confidence. she felt completely reachable then; entirely different from when she sings.</p>
<p>“i know.” wendy’s reply seems careful. her mouth turns into a slight smile. “i didn’t tell you because you guys were busy.”</p>
<p>“yah, son seungwan.” touché, irene thinks too. feels every bit of that reply in the pit of her stomach.</p>
<p>“sorry,” she says back. and isn’t.</p>
<p>there are too many lines in the sand. irene forgets about the rest of the bags. wants to say something like, “hey, i'm trying!” but even that’s not the right thing to say. what is, she wonders. she's exhausted by this. has barely had time to deal with her feelings on all counts. </p>
<p>“i deserved that,” she mutters. there’s an angry flush pushing itself onto her face. irene rubs her eyes. “i deserved that,” she repeats. when she sighs too, it fills the air. it's so loud that her ears ring right along with it. “i don’t like this, you know,” she finds herself saying. “i don’t like that we’re in this place that when you’re right next to me, we can’t talk anymore without feeling like we have to fight each other or navigate in such a way that we have to disregard each other’s feelings. i don’t know how to handle you liking me. and i’m sorry. because i feel like i've really messed up, especially since i'd really like to kiss you again because i do like how it makes me feel and everything is stupid and <i>complicated</i> and –”</p>
<p>wendy’s hand covers her mouth.</p>
<p>irene freezes, eyes wide. she's so startled that she doesn’t know what to do. her hand juts up to push wendy away, but stops midway. wendy shakes her head. irene forces herself to breathe. in and out, she thinks. one, two, three.</p>
<p>“i'm not going to be sorry that i told you,” wendy says quietly. seriously. her fingers remain gently on irene’s face. “but i am sorry that you think you deserved to being punish for having feelings that are not like mine. or that you just –” she stops and laughs, as if to fully process what irene’s just said to her too. “at rate,” she tries to be dismissive, “you don’t have to apologize. i told you – we’re going to be okay.”</p>
<p>in the back of her mind, irene thinks <i>this isn’t fair</i>. wants to scream at the top of her lungs and accuse her of having the time. but that is neither here or there and she is catching up, she thinks, to herself and processing whatever it is that’s going on. it’s a lot and she doesn’t know how to handle it.</p>
<p>wendy pulls her hand away from irene’s face.</p>
<p>they go back to their groceries.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>irene calls joy.</p>
<p>this is later. wendy decides she wants to take a shower. irene volunteers to make food so it doesn’t look like she’s hiding.</p>
<p>“are you coming home?” she asks, as soon as joy answers. “because i -“</p>
<p>“no,” joy scoffs. “this is a dumb two day trip to shoot in the wilderness. i thought i said something?”</p>
<p>“probably told seulgi.”</p>
<p>joy is dismissive. “same thing.”</p>
<p>“look,” irene says. “i know you’re also pissed at me, but i’m a little over it. like, i’m trying here and i also hate how messy this is and how messy it’s going to continue to be. but, like, don’t be a jerk.”</p>
<p>“so don’t act like one.” joy doesn’t miss a beat. “and also, you have to get it together. she didn’t tell you she liked you so that you could basically drown in your feelings. the least you could do is step outside yourself for a hot second and maybe spend time with her instead of looking for an ulterior motive.”</p>
<p>the funny part about joy is that she never started this way, but she has gained this uncanny ability to make you feel like she’s always been herself - older, wiser, and sharp as a knife - and that you were the one falling behind. at this point, wendy walks into the kitchen. her hair is wet. her t-shirt swims over her leggings and irene frowns. has she lost weight?</p>
<p>“i’m guessing wendy’s there.”</p>
<p>“she’s here.” irene swallows. you're over doing it, she tells herself.</p>
<p>“look,” joy says, almost mockingly. it's unintentional, but irene feels it; the level of seriousness changes. “just talk to her. it can’t be that hard.”</p>
<p>she hangs up then. leaves irene to stare at the phone in her hand, then at wendy who looks nothing short of amused. wendy moves over to her spot in the kitchen, peaking into the pasta and stealing some of the steamed green beans that they bought together too. she takes a bite, watching her.</p>
<p>“just joy,” irene offers.</p>
<p>“you have a look,” wendy shrugs. her smile is a little lazy and irene feels jealous. she hates that. “she means well,” wendy offers too.</p>
<p>they settle into silence, into probably the most domestic she’s been in months, despite the insane levels of quarantine and homebound they’ve all been at various points. she's not going to lie; there are times where she feels a little insane because of it and here, it edges just close to that sense of claustrophobia, prompted only by the fact that there’s wendy and she’s really close.</p>
<p>her body still adjusts though. they brush elbows. they brush fingertips. all small moments add up, of course. and her anxiety starts to lessen. maybe because it’s quiet at home and at home, right now, it’s just the two of them and she can hear herself think.</p>
<p>“want me to set the table?”</p>
<p>irene laughs a little. “you know we’re just going to end up sitting on the kitchen floor eating anyway.”</p>
<p>“true.” wendy grins and it feels like a real smile. “can’t say i didn’t try either.”</p>
<p>it’s such an impossibly small moment. but the smile sends irene into a much better place. i did that, she tells herself. then stops, wondering how she got here too.</p>
<p>“you want to talk.”</p>
<p>“what?”</p>
<p>wendy is now sitting against a set of drawers, watching her curiously. there's nothing immediate about how she says it. it’s almost gentle. she doesn’t deserve that, she thinks too. but she does feel the changes in how she holds herself: heartbeat steady, breathing even, like a truce, if anything but.</p>
<p>“talk,” wendy repeats. then points. “you.”</p>
<p>irene laughs a little. “i guess i do.” she takes a pause. maybe breathes a little. she's tentative, more hesitating and it’s counterintuitive only because they’ve had nothing but conversations with each other. all revealing, maybe too revealing, but on all levels. she rubs her eyes. “i mean, i don’t know what to say,” she starts again. that much is true. “i guess in the end, everything’s been said? i don’t know. had you asked me a week ago, i would have probably had a different response. i would have been more sure – it’s so bad that i’m like that. it’s like weird codependency on having things be black and white… am i making any sense?”</p>
<p>“sure,” wendy says. “i think i follow.”</p>
<p>“it’s okay if i don’t. i barely understand myself sometimes. i guess what i'm trying to say is that i really depend on the structure of my relationships. of being able to identify them as they are. jennie is my friend. yeri is literally the definition of my little sister. or i assume that i know how people fit in my life…”</p>
<p>it feels a little reckless to be this open. she keeps waiting for the punch line or wendy’s judgment to drop. but it doesn’t. and somehow too, she’s gotten closer to wendy, almost unconsciously so. they sit cross-legged, facing each other, knee to knee, and hands grazing each other again.</p>
<p>dinner is completely forgotten. it shouldn’t be a surprise to either of them; irene has always loved how wrapped up they get in talking to each other. hours on hours on end. and maybe, that’s the part that has always been there, that she can talk to wendy and just be herself, in whatever iteration she needs to be. it strikes her then, how incredibly selfish that thought is – how wendy has always been there and she’s somehow just assumed that this is the way that it’s always going to be.</p>
<p>“i’m not going anywhere.”</p>
<p>startled, irene meets wendy’s gaze.</p>
<p>“if i'm following your weird line of thinking,” wendy continues with amusement. “i… i'm not going anywhere. i told you i like you. that i think of you differently than i think of everyone else. and that i like thinking of you that way. i have a hard time putting you in a box that you don’t belong. but, joohyunie, i'm not going anywhere. i just needed you to know how i feel.”</p>
<p>irene breaks. there’s nothing dramatic to it. her face falls and her hands cover her eyes and it’s all a little too much for her, given that there’s no background noise and she actually feels honest.</p>
<p>“i just wish i could tell you that i have sorted all my feelings out.” her tears sort of blur her vision for a moment and she looks away, if only to have the space. “it’s easy to say that i like someone because of time and how much time i've spent with them, how easy it’s to connect –”</p>
<p>“tell me more,” wendy interrupts. her voice is dry but it’s not harsh.</p>
<p>irene sniff. “sorry,” she murmurs. “all of this sounded better in my head. i guess what i'm trying to say is that seulgi is safe. i like safe. it makes sense to me, <i>safe</i>. and i don’t know how else to sort it out in my head.”</p>
<p>wendy is silent. and that might scare irene the most – she prefers the fight to know what she’s thinking, the pushback for answers; if anything, it’s remote jealousy. when wendy said to her, “i like you –” there was such a certain that overwhelmed her, that she didn’t know what to do. why do you like me. how do you like me. what did i do to make you feel this way.</p>
<p>“you scare me,” irene finishes, as if she were explaining it to herself. “because you don’t make sense to me. and in the middle of it –” she points to her heart, hitting it lightly with her fingers “in the middle of it, my heart is racing out of my chest. my palms are hot and i can’t stop thinking about kissing you and holding your hand like i'm dumb and twelve. i think about how you would approach things or if you would like a certain book or sweater – it’s really stupid but i’ve never known what to do when it comes to you.”</p>
<p>there, there it is.</p>
<p>the truth? this is the confession. it's messy and impossible. it makes absolutely no sense and there’s no clean break. there's no “i really like you, seungwan!” because this is what life is and it’s certainly not perfect.</p>
<p>irene is breathing heavily. she's stopped and of course, there’s plenty more to say. she’s just exhausted and can’t bring herself to continue. and as if wendy knows, she scoots closer to her and grabs both of her hands. irene waits for wendy to say something more, almost begs her to fill the silence because she really can’t handle not knowing her response.</p>
<p>but wendy smiles and just leans into kiss her.</p>
<p>it’s nothing earth-shattering. her mouth grazes over irene’s and irene can’t help herself but arch right into it too. her fingers move from wendy’s hands to the back of her neck, gripping her close. no, she thinks. no, she tells herself. this is my kiss. and so she takes it, maybe selfishly, definitely achingly – her mouth slants over wendy’s and she kisses her to almost declare herself again. to make sure that wendy feels everything that she’s feeling. just so that she can know too.</p>
<p>so this is what she learns: wendy likes it when she bites at her lip and it can be just a little graze of her teeth, pulling her lip between her own. there's a weird charge because it makes wendy moan softly and it makes irene take the power trip only because it’s something that she can make wendy feel. that's mine, she tells herself, and sinks her fingers into wendy’s hair too, trying to run through all the feelings of heat and desire that are crawling inside of her. she feels a little clumsy too; wendy lets her kiss her, wendy lets her touch her, but it’s still wendy that is taking from and irene is okay with it.</p>
<p>the important things are usually this simple though and she can go on and on, revealing at how wendy got there first, at how stupid it is that she’s not quite there and that’s a mess in itself. but the world gets a little smaller on that kitchen floor and when irene pulls back from wendy’s mouth, her fingers return to her hands and they lace their fingers together. irene stares at their hands and smiles. dinner is forgotten, already cold.</p>
<p>but here, irene breathes. her heart rate calms a little and wendy begins to hum, reaching for a fork.</p>
<p>maybe they’ll get there, she thinks. maybe they won’t.</p>
<p>the thing is, irene is catching up.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading!</p>
<p>I really enjoyed writing this series even though it was a big pile of angst ahaha. I wanted to challenge myself with writing something that was messy and inconclusive. As much as I really love romances and how clean they are, I tend to prefer exploring things that are not so clean and messy and conclusive. People are people, you know? And life isn't as structured as we need it or want it to be.</p>
<p>So onto the next one, I guess! And always, thank you guys for all the wonderful comments. I'm going to finally get around to responding to you all; you're all wonderful and insightful and I really appreciate it all. So thank you, thank you, and thank you again!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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